


The Dolphin

by falseungodlyhours



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Don't Try This At Home, F/M, Fluff and Humor, I mean it guys, in which JJ and Kie share one braincell, seriously, some tasteful language, tiny mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falseungodlyhours/pseuds/falseungodlyhours
Summary: Now that they’ve found the gold and things have quieted down in the Outer Banks, Kiara and JJ have a little too much free time on their hands...(In which JJ is the one to give Kie her first tattoo)
Relationships: JJ & Kiara (Outer Banks), JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 73





	The Dolphin

**Author's Note:**

> (Set sometime during their senior year)
> 
> I know nothing about tattoos (literally used a wikihow tutorial), if y’all notice anything that feels off regarding that PLEASE don’t hesitate to lmk 
> 
> Enjoy <3

**_The Dolphin_ **

“This is a terrible fucking idea.”

“It was your idea!” 

“I’m regretting it already,” Kiara winced, gripping the arm of the patio chair she was sitting in. 

She usually loved quiet nights at the Chateau -- the air thick with the smell of weed, everyone sinking into the furniture on the porch, looking out at the night sky. Her friends reaching rare states of calmness she never saw when the sun was out. 

Tonight was not one of those nights. 

Because somehow, despite all the shit with the gold and the drug dealers and the _fucking_ Camerons, Kiara Carrera was making dumber decisions now that everything had calmed down. Or maybe it was that, strangely, she was bored as hell now, without intense life or death, soap opera-level drama taking up her life. And so...

JJ looked up at her from where he was bent over at her side. “I haven’t even started yet.” 

Kie looked down--which was a rookie mistake--as the needle in his hand hovered over her skin, shaking slightly.

This was a mistake. What had she been thinking, really, letting _JJ Maybank_ give her a tattoo? He could barely keep still long enough to tie his own shoes, much less scratch a permanent marking into her skin.

It had started off innocent. They were drinking, which didn’t sound innocent, but they were always drinking, and it was late, the rest of the Pogues already passed out inside. At some point, JJ lifted his arms up, stretching in his place on the couch. She just happened to glance over, very innocently, and notice something dark and bold against the skin right above his hip bone, where his t-shirt had ridden up. 

“Umm,” Kiara said intelligently, four beers in. “What the hell is that?”

He frowned at her, and then looked down, realizing. “Oh. That’s nothing.” 

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” She blinked. How had she never seen that before?

He shrugged, pulled his shirt down. Started fishing around in his pocket for something -- probably his lighter. 

“Oh hell no, you’re telling me this time.” 

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“We’ve been friends a long time, and yet somehow I know very few of your secrets,” Kiara squinted at him. “You’re a mystery, Maybank.”

“Good,” He smirked. “Mystery is sexy.”

“Tell me about the tattoo.” 

He paused, twisting at one of the rings on his fingers. After a moment, he looked up again. 

“I did it myself,” He grinned.

“Bullshit.”

He moved to her side of the couch, raising his shirt up slightly. “I swear on the Cat’s Ass.”

“That means nothing to me.”

JJ sighed. “She was good, Kie. Strobe lights and everything,” He looked off at some vague, unknown thing beyond the porch that Kiara couldn’t see. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.”

Kie rolled her eyes. He had tried to hide the piece of shit behind the shed for months after John B and Sarah had gotten back from the Bahamas, as if they all couldn’t see it’s red outline peeking out from behind the wood. She had finally coaxed him into selling it for less than it was worth after they had caught a couple of kids trying to drag it off in the middle of the night. Well, _coaxed_ was a light way of describing it. She had had to bribe him with _five_ new string bracelets, to be given in weekly installments. Reminded him it was ridiculous, and disgustingly expensive, because she hadn’t wanted to tell him the real reason she hated it. 

She hated it because every time she got a glimpse of its red outline, gleaming in the sunlight, she was taken back to the feeling of coming around the corner that _fucking_ night and seeing him sitting there, glaring lights hitting his face, drink in hand, as he faded away. 

What she _really_ hated was the look in his eyes, after he'd stood up and one of the biggest mysteries about him had finally made sense. When he'd told her to _stop being emotional_ , and she’d realized that he'd been saying it to her for years, they'd both been saying it to each other. She had hated _that_ , suddenly, too--that she didn't know many of his secrets and he didn't know many of hers, not really. 

She hated that she hadn't been able to do anything about it, except hold him.

"You are such a lightweight," JJ chuckled, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

"What?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "The Cat's Ass?" He said, clearly thinking he needed to remind her. 

She blinked. "Literally the worst purchase you've ever made." She couldn't actually confirm that.

“Hey! I had some good times in that thing!” He protested. 

“That’s disgusting,” She frowned, really looking at the tattoo. It was a wave---sketched boldly, in wide curves into his pale skin. Not bad. “Wait. You mean to tell me that you got yourself a needle and all the other stuff and just...what? Looked down and went for it?”

“Did it in the bathroom, actually. So I could look at it through the mirror,” He said proudly. 

“Also, a wave? Really?” 

He shrugged. “I like waves. Waves are nice.”

“That’s it?” She laughed. “You gave yourself a permanent marking on your body because...it’s nice?”

JJ nodded. “Why else would I get one? Hate to break it to you, Kie, but if you’re looking for some deeper meaning or shit, you’re not gonna find it. I don’t need a tattoo to remind me of something that matters to me. If it matters, I’ll remember it,” He said. “That’s why you don’t see _live, laugh, love_ , or your ass, or something on my chest. I’ve got it all up here,” He tapped a finger to his temple.

She scoffed, and then tried and failed to suppress the smirk forming on her face at the thought of JJ Maybank with _live laugh love_ tattooed across him.

“I can’t believe you gave yourself a tattoo.”

“What, that I’m a badass? That I took matters into my own hands?” He shrugged. “You always talk about getting something, and fuck me if I’m wrong, but you never have.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t had the chance.”

“Nah, I think it scares you, Kie,” JJ said, leaning back. “I think you want the adventure, not the commitment.”

“Well that was fucking deep,” She said. “Prolific, really.” 

He sighed. “Either that, or you’re secretly afraid of needles.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“We know, Kie,” He laughed, which made her narrow her eyes at him. 

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing. You’re a stoic badass, with no inhibitions. No fears. No _emotions_ ,” He teased, and some version of her from the past would have been irritated. Amused, even. That Kie didn’t exist anymore. Hadn’t for a long time. Instead, something twisted in her gut, made her feel claustrophobic. 

“Let’s do it,” Kiara said. 

His brow crinkled. “Do what?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo,” She said easily, hoping it didn’t sound artificial. 

JJ smirked for a moment. When he realized she wasn’t laughing, his eyes widened. “Wait...you’re fucking serious?”

“Isn’t that what I said?” 

He squinted at her. “You want _me_ to give _you_ a tattoo? Like, a permanent one? On your body?”

“I believe that is how it works.”

He went quiet, thinking. “You’re not afraid I’ll fuck it up?”

She rolled her eyes at that. “I’m not afraid of anything. We’ve been over this.” 

JJ cocked an eyebrow. “What would you even want?”

She didn’t have to think about it. “A dolphin. Like right here, over my ribs, maybe,” She touched the spot.

He looked at her for a long moment, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You gave me shit about a wave being basic...and you, Kiara Carrera, want a _dolphin_?!” 

She scoffed. “A dolphin’s more evolved than three squiggly lines.”

He rolled his eyes. “Everyone on the island has a dolphin tattoo. Pogue, kook, doesn’t matter. They’ve all got a dolphin, or a sea turtle, or some shit.” He thought for a moment. “Even Heyward. I guarantee it.” 

“You think _Heyward_ has a dolphin tattoo.”

“Heyward would look fucking awesome with a dolphin tattoo.” 

“He’s definitely more of a turtle guy.” 

JJ paused, thinking it over. The silence made Kiara fidgety (she was never fidgety), made her want to say she was kidding. “Look, I get if it’s too much pressure--”

“I can do a dolphin,” He decided, looking her over, as if he was still unsure whether or not she was messing with him. 

“Cool.”

“Cool,” He said, standing up and stepping across the porch. “Let me just get my stuff.”

He disappeared inside the Chateau, door shutting softly behind him. Kiara sat in the silence for a moment before the doubts started to kick in, rushing through her like cold water.

She wrung her hands and stood up, eyes settling on the bright green patio chair near the rail, thinking it would be more stable. Regretted it as soon as she sat down, the plastic shifting against the wood beneath her and making her wobble slightly. 

A few moments later, JJ reappeared, hands light enough that Kiara squinted at him. He had a cup of water in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. 

This was off to a promising start. 

He handed her the cup, then dragged the other patio chair in front of her and sat down. He set the vodka next to his chair, she set the water beside it. Watched as he pulled a couple of inks out of his pocket, tiny bottles with scratched out labels, and set them on the arm of the chair. 

“So,” He said, finally meeting her eyes. “Black and white? Grey? Blue? Like a tiny one, or do you want it over your whole side? Do you want like some water with it or bubbles or some shit? Do you want words with it? What about--”

“Surprise me.”

“You’re gonna live to regret that decision, Carrera,” He said, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up. 

He seemed to remember something suddenly, and fished through his pocket again. He pulled out a strange contraption that she thought was a pencil at first, until she noticed the duct tape and the motor attached to the end of it, the wire connecting it to a portable power source. 

“ _What the fuck is that?_ ”

“The gun,” JJ said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

He held it up towards her, and she looked over the base ( _part of a mechanical pencil attached to part of a toothbrush, the whole thing bent at a weird angle_ ), the fraying wire ( _was that -- or at least, did it used to be -- one of her phone chargers?_ ), the tiny needle ( _was it supposed to be that small?_ )

“Holy shit, did you make this?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.” She was kind of impressed. 

He set the needle down next to the inks. “Okay. Never thought I would actually get to say this with no repercussions, but Kie? Lift your shirt up.” 

She rolled her eyes, lifted her crop top over her head completely, and tossed it onto the couch. 

JJ had seen her in just a bikini top thousands of times, and yet, somehow, he always looked like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

His face did this weird thing--his pupils widened and his jaw kind of went slack and he always seemed to lose whatever train of thought he’d been having. 

Kie wished she could say it just made her want to shove him--but she couldn’t deny the way something else fluttered in her stomach. 

He reached for the bottle of vodka first, tipping it into his mouth. Then, he tipped it towards her. “Want some?” 

“What the hell,” She said, and he handed it to her, their fingers brushing. She took a large gulp, relishing in the way it burned down her throat. Handed it back, thinking for a moment. “Don’t you need to, like, wash your hands first?”

JJ waved the bottle, and then poured it over his palms, rubbing them together. 

Kiara smirked. “How did yours not get infected?”

“Oh it did. For weeks. Remember when I told y’all I had stabbed myself on some coral?”

“You mean that bullshit excuse about why you couldn’t swim and you kept wincing every time you moved too quickly, or like brushed your side? That was actually about this?” _It hadn’t been something to do with his dad, like she’d feared?_ Something small inside Kiara settled, found relief.

“Yep,” He said. “Hurt like a motherfucker. But I’ve learned, since then. Apparently you’ve gotta apply vaseline like twice a day.”

“ _Dude_.”

He reached for the bottle of vodka again, took another drink, and then wet one of his bandanas with it. He brought the cloth to her ribs, running the alcohol over her skin. 

And now that Kiara was sitting there, JJ in front of her, the bandana cold against her...

Well, the reality was starting to creep in, too soon.

^^^

“This is a terrible fucking idea.” 

JJ's shoulders shook slightly. “It was your idea!” 

“I’m regretting it already,” Kie winced, hand braced against the arm of the chair. 

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised. “I haven’t even started yet.” 

She sighed. “Then get on with it then, Maybank.” It was better not to think about it, right? 

He moved his hand to her side, probably to steady her-- and she flinched.

JJ stilled, really looked at her this time. “You sure about this?”

She cocked her head to the side, because clearly he wanted them to think about it, at least a little bit. “Letting an unlicensed rookie put something permanent on my body? What’s there to be unsure about?”

“Seriously, you can back out,” He said. “I won’t give you shit about it, we can just keep drinking and do it another time or something.” 

“Or I can go to an actual parlor.”

He shrugged, smiling. “Or you can go to an actual parlor, with someone with less artistic ability, who will surely fuck it up.”

Kiara gave him a long look. “Just do it.” 

He was still staring back at her. 

“Do it, JJ.” 

He grinned, shaking his head slightly, and a moment later Kiara felt a prick. 

She tensed again, gripping the chair tighter.

“You good?”

She nodded, jaw clenched. 

He started out slow --- slower than she’d ever seen him do anything, as if he was afraid he was going to ruin her skin. 

He kept glancing up at her, too, eyes flicking back and forth between her side and her face, and she realized how close they were, the weird intimacy of this moment. She decided to smile reassuringly, and he looked back down quickly, running his thumb over her skin and making her shiver despite the pain. 

“So how many of these have you done?” Kiara asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. 

“Two, maybe?”

Kiara’s eyes shot open. “ _Two_?! What, including this one?!”

“Can’t be sure,” He said, which meant she was right. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but...I guess I’ll be your lab rat,” She sighed. “Also, you owe me big time.”

“Owe you what?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” 

She felt the needle drag slowly across her skin, as JJ began to draw the outline of the design. His right hand was warm against her side, holding her still as his left hand traced across her. Every few strokes, he dipped the needle into the water at his side, washing it clean again, and then dipped it back into the black ink.

He was being careful, more careful than she’d ever seen him be about anything. It made something in her chest stutter. 

Kiara decided to take that moment to look down at her friend. His wild blonde hair stuck up in the moonlight, blue eyes almost navy, brow furrowed in concentration. JJ had always been attractive--in the sunlight when they were on the HMS Pogue, in the waves at Rixon’s, in the firelight at Boneyard Parties. Kiara thought he was prettiest here, in these moments under the moonlight, when he wasn’t really thinking about it. 

When he didn’t have to pretend to be anything and she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t see him, really see him. 

He moved his hand to her thigh, tilting his head and peering closer. It made her stomach turn slightly. 

A moment later, the needle paused suddenly, right under the band of her bikini top. 

Kiara was afraid to look. “JJ.”

“Mmhm?” He said in a voice that was an octave higher than normal. 

“ _JJ_.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just make the fin longer,” He muttered, mostly to himself. 

Forty-five minutes later, the outline of it was done. 

“You wanna see?” He said, reaching towards his pocket for his phone.

“Nah, I’ll wait till the end,” She said. “Get the whole picture.”

“Suit yourself,” He said, reaching for the blue ink. 

^^^

Somewhere in the middle of him shading it in, when things had been quiet for a while, both of them soaking up the night, JJ spoke again. 

“I used to have a scar there.” 

Kiara looked down at the top of his head. “A scar?”

“Birthday gift from my old man. I’ve had it for years,” He said. 

She kept looking at him, mouth dry, waiting for him to continue. 

“I got the waves to cover it up,” he admitted in a voice that was too small, too quiet for JJ Maybank, for all of his brightness and loudness and humor. “I don’t know, I just...I didn’t want to be reminded of it. I wanted it to be something good. Something that felt more like me.” 

Kie swallowed. Pushed down the urge to brush it off, to make some joke to make him feel better, or to make herself feel better. “That’s fucking amazing.”

The needle stilled. JJ’s eyes shifted up to meet hers, he was frowning slightly. 

She continued, “You took something shitty that had happened to you, and you remade it into something better.”

He shook his head, tried to look away, but she wasn’t done. 

“You took control of it,” She said. “You focused on the good. That’s...fuck. That’s amazing.”

JJ had this look in his eyes then, something flickered behind the blue that she couldn’t quite read. Then he was smirking, returning his attention to her side. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. 

An hour and a half later, he was leaning back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “Done.”

“Done?”

He was grinning, looking at his handiwork. “Done.” 

“...can I see it now?”

“Shit, right,” He said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He took a few shots of it up close, and then a few pulled back, the bright flash lighting up the porch. 

He handed her the phone, and reached into his pocket and pulled out a container of Vaseline, which, of course, he had on him. 

She began to scroll through them as he put the gauze over her side. 

The dolphin was bright blue -- the flash of the camera illuminating it against her skin, and it was smaller than she’d thought it would be. It was pretty smooth --only a couple rough lines -- and the shading was simple. Tiny, beady eyes and a long tail that curled slightly. 

_It looks kinda like a smurf dick_ , she realized, with some fondness. She kinda liked it. 

“It’s cool,” She said with a soft smile, looking up to find JJ watching her. 

“You like it?” He asked quietly, eyes wide. 

“Yeah,” She looked at it again. “It’s dope. Thank you.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Sure.” 

Later in the night -- or later in the morning, for all she knew-- when the pain wasn’t as sharp anymore and they’d finished a joint, she found herself glancing over at him, only to find he was already watching her. 

“I don’t usually give into peer pressure, you know,” She said, breaking through the silence. 

JJ paused for a moment. “So questioning your guts is all it takes to egg you on?” He smirked. “Damn, wish I had figured _that_ out years ago.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t do shit like this,” she said, feeling like she needed to save face for some reason. 

JJ looked at her sideways. “Except with me?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, had a quip on the tip of her tongue--but there was something about the way he was looking at her, something about the way his voice had sounded strangely small, personal. 

“Except with you,” She relented, and he grinned, wide and toothy and all-consuming, and for a fleeting moment she kinda wished she could get _that_ tattooed somewhere on her. The thought passed quickly, drifting off into some corner of her mind, to be ignored, but not forgotten, no matter how hard she would try. 

“So what do you want next time?” He said, bringing her out of her thoughts again. “I’m thinking a dreamcatcher, or like an infinity sign. That would be hot.” 

“This is so gonna get infected,” She sighed, and his smile grew. 


End file.
